


Crossing Lines

by beccaheartschrisevans



Category: American Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 07:18:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7565152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beccaheartschrisevans/pseuds/beccaheartschrisevans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris’s best friend comes over to his place following an awful, ended early, first date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crossing Lines

You’re bored out of your mind as you sit across the table from another awful date; this time with a guy you met on a dating site. You’d found him funny online, but there is nothing funny about the cocky asshole now.

“Excuse me,” you say, standing up, suddenly. “I need to visit the lady’s.”

You tuck your wallet purse under your arm and make your way across the restaurant to where the restrooms are. That’s when you run into _her_ ; a woman dressed in all black and wearing large black sunglasses the hide her eyes.

“You should leave,” she says, stepping in front of you. “That man you’re with is my husband.”

“What?” You’re taken aback by her words, but then you realize it gives you an out from the worst date of them all. “Sorry, he didn’t say anything. Consider me gone.”

You pass her and go into the kitchen, hoping the fact that the owner’s cousin is one of your best friends will allow you to slip out through the alley. You bypass the dish pit and are almost to the alley door when the owner of the restaurant calls your name.

Turning around, you expect him to be mad, but instead he is holding a pizza in a to go box. “You looked miserable out there,” he says, holding out the pizza box. “I don’t blame you for ditching him.”

“Thanks,” you reply, not wanting to reveal the real reason you’re sneaking out through the kitchen. Judging by the loud voices and a sudden sound of breaking dishes from the dining room, he’ll figure it all out soon enough.

While he leaves to find out what’s going on, you exit the restaurant and walk around the block to your car, very glad you hadn’t taken the asshole up on his offer to pick you up for your date.

After getting into the car and starting it, you tell Siri to call Chris.

“Hello?” his voice greets you seconds later.

“You busy tonight?” you ask, thankful once again for the Bluetooth enabled stereo he’d given you for Christmas last year.

“I thought you had a date.”

“Ugh, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Just tell me,” he says. “You went to my cousin’s place, right? I’ll hear about it anyway.”

“I’m certain you will,” you reply with a sigh. “Fine. The short version is his wife showed up.”

“What the fuck! That bastard was married!”

“And boring as hell,” you reply. “I left the table to go to the bathroom and his wife met me in the hallway to tell me to get lost.”

“Fuck,” he says again. “This is why you shouldn’t go on those stupid dating sites.”

“How the hell do you suggest I meet guys then?” you ask. “The guys in Boston won’t date me, my dad, my brother and my grandfather are all cops.”

“Maybe you should add that to your profile then.”

You choose to ignore his suggestion and return to your original question, “So, are you busy tonight?”

“Nope. Just hanging out in my apartment.”

“Can I come over? Your cousin gave me a pizza.”

“I’ve got a fridge full of beer and other stuff.”

“I’ll be there in five,” you reply then hit the ‘end call’ button.

A few minutes later, you arrive at his building and take the parking spot of someone leaving. You grab the pizza box and then head up to his apartment, where he is waiting for you in the doorway.

“You look hot tonight,” he says not even trying to hide the fact he is checking you out.

“You’re looking pretty good yourself,” you reply, taking in his relaxed look of a black t-shirt and a pair of dark wash jeans.

He takes the pizza box from you and then leads you into the large, loft apartment that he owns even though he usually spends his time in Boston at his mom’s house.

“So how did I get lucky and find you here tonight?” you ask as you kick off the heels you’d worn.

“My oldest nephew is having a sleepover,” he replies. “I was there earlier, but it was just too much for me and I told my mom I was staying here tonight.”

“Just wait until your niece is old enough to have sleepovers,” you tease.

“I grew up with sisters, I plan to be far, far, far away when that happens,” he states as he puts the pizza box on a kitchen counter. “I have no interest in being tied to a chair so girls can give me a makeover. Been there, done that, don’t need to do it again.”

“Your mom would have pictures of that hidden away somewhere, wouldn’t she?” you ask innocently as you open the box and grab a slice of pizza.

“Probably, but she won’t share them,” he says giving you a ‘don’t even think about it’ glare before opening the fridge and grabbing two beers.

“Maybe not with a stranger, but I’ve been your best friend for -”

You stop talking when you find yourself pressed into the counter by his hard body. Your lick your lips and swallow as your eyes move up his chest and to his handsome face.

“We’ve crossed certain lines in our twenty-five year friendship,” he says, his voice lowering in tone. “But there are still others that shouldn’t be crossed.”

“You’re right,” you say, trying hard to ignore the hardness that is pressed against your lower belly.

He remains pressed against you for another second before he backs off and grabs the pizza box.

You follow him over to the black leather couch and take a seat. He puts the pizza box on the coffee table then drops into the spot next to you. He grabs the bottle opener off the coffee table and pulls the lids off both beers then holds one out to you.

You finish your first slice of pizza and grab a second as he turns on his TV and quickly navigates through different menus. You don’t pay much attention until you see him hit play on “Pretty Woman”, one of your favorite movies.

“We can watch something else,” you tell him.

“You’ve had a shitty night,” he replies as he leans forward and grabs two slices of pizza then stacks them on top of each other.

Having had your fill of pizza, you lean against him and smile when he wraps one of his arms around you. You stay interested in the movie until the scene where Julia Roberts’ character goes down on Richard Gere’s character. It is then that you feel the heat of Chris behind you, feel the way his body feels against yours and remember the hardiness you felt in the kitchen.

“Are you dating or almost dating anyone?” you ask, turning your head to look at him.

His eyes meet yours and he shakes his head then verbally answers, “No. No one.”

That’s all the invitation you need since you two had decided last Christmas that you could handle being friends who occasionally fucked. No longer interested in the movie, you turn your body towards him and bite your lower lip before leaning in to him.

His mouth meets yours halfway and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. You love kissing him, because he treats it as an artform; one in which he is well-skilled, or rather, well-practiced because, if you’re being honest, the first kiss the pair of you shared at age 12 was a sloppy mess.

You feel his large hands slide down your back to grab hold of your ass and you allow him to guide the slow, rocking movements of your lower body into his. Then his fingers grab the bottom hem of your dress and pull it up so you’re panty covered sex is pressed directly into the rough denim covering his hard cock.

Pulling away from him, you lean back and locked your eyes to his as you take control of the movements of your hips. He smiles back at you with dilated pupils before shifting without any warning.

You find yourself on your back and staring up at him as he pulls his t-shirt over his head, exposing his sculpted torso to your hungry eyes. You can’t help but reach out to touch him, but quickly find your hands being guided, by his, down to the fastenings of his jeans. You quickly undo them then watch as he pulls them down, freeing his hard cock in the process.

As he stands up to remove his jeans, you hurriedly take off your dress and drop it onto the floor, leaving yourself in a black push-up bra and lacy black panties. Your eyes meet his as he lowers himself onto the couch and you bite your lower lip as you undo the front clasp on your bra. His eyes drop to your breasts as you unveil them to him. He licks his lips and then leans down over you.

You arch your back, offering your breasts to him as his mouth finds one and his large hand finds the other. The little hairs of his beard tickle your sensitive skin and his velvety tongue quickly soothes the occasional irritation. He proves his mouth and tongue are skilled in more than just kissing as he makes his way from one breast to the other, showering the skin of your chest and torso with the same attention he does your nipples and breasts.

Heat pools between your legs as he continues his journey down your body and you ache to feel him buried inside of you, but you know he’s going to make you wait. You jump as his fingers touch your through the fabric of your panties and you press your body against him. You glare at him as he smirks back at you while teasing your through the lacy material.

Finally, you feel his fingers on the waistband of your panties and you lift your hips to allow him to remove them. Your eyes follow his hand as he drops the offending fabric on to the floor and then you cock your eyebrow as he grabs the edge of the coffee table and pulls it your direction. Then he places one of your feet on the table, effectively opening your most intimate parts for his viewing.

And view he does. His eyes study your folds and you blush. He licks his lips and then bounces his eyes up to yours to wink at you. Then he begins with delicate, _irritatingly_ deliberate touches to your inner thighs, teasing you.

“Chrisssssss,” you whine.

He teases a little longer before those long, slender fingers finally touch you where you need it the most. Your eyes close as he works you over, slipping his digits through your folds and you arch you back as one of his fingers, slickened by your juices, slides into your sex. Your hips naturally rise and fall in sync with the movements of his hands and you cry out in disbelief when he pulls out.

Then his mouth is on you and your grab hold of his strong, muscular shoulder as his tongue becomes intimate with your sex. Your cries fill the loft as he brings you to the edge of your release and then over the edge, leaving you panting and jello-limbed.

You open you eyes and see him smiling cockily at you as he licks his lips. He’s leaning back on his knees and palming his hard cock, his intentions clear. He gives you another minute to regain your composure before he moves his pointer finger in a circle motion, signalling for you to roll over.

Smiling, you lower your leg from the table and then sit up. You slide your bra off your shoulders, dropping it onto the floor and then you turn around, positioning your knees on the edge of the couch and facing the back of the couch.

You feel one of his hands grab your waist as his other guides his cock into your folds in a single thrust. He gives you a moment to adjust to his girth before his other hand grabs your waist. Your hands cling to the back of the couch as he slides in and out of you, each thrust increasing with speed.

At some point his hands end up on your ass, clinging to your soft cheeks as he slams into you repeatedly. His grunts mingle with your cries and you find yourself biting the throw blanket that is draped over the back of the couch as another orgasm tears through your body. You feel him stiffen behind you and his body jerk as he cums inside of you.

Weak kneed, he pulls out of you and collapses on to the couch, pulling you into his arms in the process.

You wake up sometime later and find yourself enveloped in his arms. The TV has long since turned itself off and at some point Chris has covered you both with the blanket. You snuggle yourself into his chest and breath in his scent that both turns you on and makes you feel at peace and, most importantly, at home.

With your ear pressed against his chest, you can feel his heartbeat and you can’t help but wish that the two of you couldn’t change your “friends with benefits” status into a boyfriend/girlfriend one. You’re not sure when it happened, but you’ve fallen in love with your best friend.

“You think too loud.” His low tone sends vibrations through your body. “Go back to sleep, we’ll talk in the morning.”

You’re not sure you can go back to sleep and then you feel it, his hand on the small of your back. You feel one of his fingers drawing something, but you can’t tell what it is at first. Then he repeats it.

He draws a horizontal line then a vertical line and followed by a second horizontal line.

The letter “I”, you realize.

Your heart pounds as he redraws the second object and you quickly recognize as a heart.

Then he draws a horse shoe like shape that you interpret as the letter “U”.

Then he draws on final thing, two vertical lines in rapid succession. It takes you a minute and then you realize he’s drawn the Roman numeral for the number 2.

“I love you, too,” you whisper.

You pull your head away from his chest and look up at him. He stares back at you and then winks at you before closing his eyes. You resettle yourself against his chest, doubting that sleep will come, but you find yourself drifting off as you listen to his breathing slow.


End file.
